The Diary of Remus Lupin
by Chantal Flameshadow
Summary: While living in Cleveland Hts 2006, Remus Lupin records all the events of his life in a blue velvet journal. Take a look inside while he grapples with everyday life and his fave obsession... RLSB slash warnings inside
1. SSDD, Days 1 thru 4

**A/N: I just started writing this when I was really bored and reading Dance, Recover, Repeat (aka Sushi Central) kind of inspired me to finish this chapter. But let me say something before I start getting my ass ripped open because some fan is crazed on keeping characters IC. This is a journal. In a journal, you can be whoever you want to be and you can write whatever you want to write. There is more to Remus Lupin than just books and big words. He's a teenager, just like us. He cusses and lusts and obsesses like the rest of us. If you can't handle Remus OOCness, please don't read my story, even if I was bored when writing it. -/rant-**

**Warnings or whatever: AU in case you haven't guessed already. Some of these places are real and some have the same name as real places. I personally apologize to Cleveland Heights High School for making you guys sound cool. XD I probably would think you are, but since I'm not there…leave me to my assumptions. I also apologize in advance for any racial slurs. I was raised to say very racial and (unintentionally) offending things. Hey, I'm black. We talk about every one and every thing. See? Case and point. Rated M for safety's sake. I haven't really planned this out. Homosexual thoughts and activities. **

**Disclaimer: I only own the plot. J.K. Rowling (the 7th book better be good, bitch! I am _not _happy with you) owns the characters that you recognize. Others you don't, I own. And I'll just _give _Harry the gun and see what he does with it. –evil grin- **

**Now that my bitch fest is over – on with the story!**

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(Mon.) August 23, 2006 – (12 midnight) Today was my first day as a junior. Nothing too exciting about that, to say the least. But when I woke up this morning, I had the strangest feeling that something was going to change. I was a little disappointed; we had the same introduction to the rules and what not, and today was more or less a personal day for the students (the upperclassmen at any rate). Absolutely _no one _paid attention. I mean, God, who would? We're _juniors. _We're the VPs of the school. The seniors may be the figureheads, but no one knows we hold the _real _power. Like Zaphod Beeblebrox. The seniors equal Zaphod. We equal the hidden power, the actual runners of the show. But I digress. 

As I was saying, normal first day. Everyone (mainly the girls) was more excited about what they're going to wear to Homecoming at the end of the NEXT. DAMN. MONTH. Ugh. Every once and a while I wonder why I despise girls. Listening to their mindless…chatter made me realize why. They're just too damn…fuck it; they're too damn girly. Okay, I know there's a better reason than that, but that's the only one I have. Maybe I'll think of a better one tomorrow. I'm going to bed.

(Tues.) August 24, 2006 – (10:13pm) Maybe today I won't pass out over my journal. SMDD. (Same Monotony, Different Day) But, there were two very good points to my day. The system put me into a regular English class by mistake, so I was moved to Honors English. (Pretty quick for this system.) That was the first good point. Small, ineffective, yes. But it made _my _day. …Partially. Anyway! Second good point: I have seen the hottest guy in the history of hot men. Or gorgeous. One of the most gorgeous guys in the history of gorgeous men. Nah, it just doesn't ring quite as well. But, in all seriousness, there is no other way to describe this guy other than majestic. Or maybe elegant. Like, he's a dragonfly in the middle of a bunch of flies. God, I sound so much like Virginia Woolf when she wrote that one story. Ew. I hated that story. But listen to me, 'elegant,' 'majestic.' How 'elegant' and 'majestic' can someone look wearing a shirt that said you sold your mind on ebay? I'm crazy. I promised myself I wouldn't do this again. Not after Michael.

But, hey, I can dream right?

Moving on, I _have _to describe my new eye candy (I feel strangely dirty saying that…) for future reference. He's one of those I'm-so-cool-I-can-get-away-with-this kind of person that wears their hair long and instead of looking like a Beatle, he looks dead sexy. It's straight and smooth looking and he wears it in a ponytail. I want to run my fingers through it so badly… And he's got the most beautiful blue-gray eyes I will ever see in my life – alright, I've got to stop. Curse you, Ms. Thompson, placing us across the room from one another. Goddess though you are, you can be a very cruel deity. Just so I won't dwell on his looks anymore, I'll just sum it up. He's kind of pale, though not sickly. More like he was just born with paper white skin. Maybe ivory. I don't sit close enough to be able to tell. He wears eyeliner and black nail polish; anyone with vision can see that. For some reason, I like guys with makeup. But, shh, even if I'm writing on paper, someone can still read this. (Hello, if you are.) So that's as far as I may go with that. Maybe another day.

I just realized – I have nothing else better to do with my time other than write in this damn journal and drool over guys that will more than likely not spare me a second glance. Like my obsession. Yeah, I like that. Obsession. That'll be my name for him until I find out for real. Yeah, I kind of spaced during class so I wasn't listening… But, yes. All I can do is pine over Obsession and nothing more. Oh my damn, I need to go somewhere.

I'm calling Nicky. Maybe she'll know something we can do. Hell, I'm even willing to get high. Won't count on it, though. I'm too scared of losing what brain cells I have remaining. It's amazing in itself that I have brain cells at _all, _all the times I've been knocked around…

(Thurs.) August 24, 2006 – (1:24am) I don't want to talk about yesterday.

At all.

I'd rather block it from my mind.

That's why I didn't update yesterday. I don't want to relive it. But I'll talk about the night before last.

I called Nicky and she invited me to some party. I had some problems with that since it was a school night, but what little homework I had was done, why not? I left a note in case mom woke up from her nightly coma and wondered where I was. I pulled on my jacket and left the house. I felt pretty happy that she lived at the end of the block; it made 'I need my best friend ever' travel easier. Skipping past the innuendo best friends usually say to each other, we got to the party and were separated almost immediately. Great. So I wander some stranger's living room in an attempt to find the stereo and when I find it, who should be there but Obsession. _Naturally. _God only wants this vision of loveliness to know every. _Single. Flaw. I. Have. _Including the one where I go to a party, screw with the stereo and get trashed.

Like, I said. Great.

Atleast I learned his name. It's Sirius Black. Beautiful goddamn name.

You know that one kid that always seems jaded, even though you know it's an act? With Sirius, it's not an act. He's _tired. _He's _bored. _And God damnit, if he wasn't going to go down without a fight! As he said, anyway. We talk and drink most of the night. He's pretty funny for a Marilyn Manson fan. (You know the stereotype: all Marilyn fans are creepy Goths that tore out the muscles in their jaws that helped them smile.) Sweet and charming. Not bad company. Not bad at all. I enjoyed trying to talk to him over the loud music.

Around 2am, Nicky took me home and I collapse into my bed. All I dream about is Sirius and the sound of his voice.

(Fri.) August 25, 2006 – (5:43pm) God. God, God, God. If I ever go beyond drinking and start using, someone shoot me. Or slap me. Something. _Please. _In fact, I'll pay you to kill me if I start using.

Nicky 's been at it for about a month now.

She just came by, high as a damn kite. She scared the shit out of me. She wouldn't stop giggling at the 'pink mice' by my feet whenever she blinked. Apparently, they were tricky bastards and would tear out your innards. So I'd better be careful, Remmy. Yes, Nick, I'll be careful.

But _you're _the one that should be careful, hon.


	2. Coincidences Annoy Me, Days 5 thru 7

**A/N: OracleVortex: I'm glad you liked it. 8D I've only done a journal once before, but that was for Social Studies. So I'm a little nervous.**

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**Warnings or whatever: AU in case you haven't guessed already. Some of these places are real and some have the same name as real places. I personally apologize to Cleveland Heights High School for making you guys sound cool. XD I probably would think you are, but since I'm not there…leave me to my assumptions. I also apologize in advance for any racial slurs. I was raised to say very racial and (unintentionally) offending things. Hey, I'm black. We talk about every one and every thing. See? Case and point. Rated M for safety's sake. I haven't really planned this out. Homosexual thoughts and activities. **

**Disclaimer: I only own the plot. J.K. Rowling (the 7th book better be good, bitch! I am _not _happy with you) owns the characters that you recognize. Others you don't, I own. And I'll just _give _Harry the gun and see what he does with it. –evil grin- **

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(Sat.) August 26, 2006 - (1:30pm) I must be really bored to be writing in here this early. There's nothing on TV at the moment (I'd rather shoot myself than watch The 40-Year-Old Virgin _again. _Though it _was _pretty damn funny.) except maybe The Princess Bride. And maybe Spongebob, but I'm just not…up for it. Oh, wait! I have a book! Robert Cormier, you are a God! Maybe I could read The Rag and Bone Shop; I wonder where it is. Does Sirius like Robert Cormier? I'll ask him on Monday. 

…Okay, how sad is it that I have nothing else to do today other than rant about Robert Cormier, even if he's one of the best authors in the history of the universe? Nicky won't answer her cell and all I know about Sirius is how gorgeous he looks, his name, and that he really likes Marilyn Manson.(Notice I add that I don't know his number. Sadness.) Personally, I'm not too fond of him. He's _way _too creepy for me. I like stuff that doesn't make me want to go crying for my mother. Like My Chemical Romance, The Used, They Would Be Giants. TWBG is just my source of happy music. And Weird Al. Who can _possibly _be sad when they're playing? Oooh, conflicting emotions! I'll play Weird Al on my MP3 while reading The Rag and Bone Shop while I'm at the library. Maybe I'll see someone there that will snap me out of it.

-Later that day – (9:13pm) This is getting seriously creepy. I'm seeing Sirius everywhere and I'm not just imagining it! I mean, I didn't talk to him to make sure I wasn't dreaming, but I swear it was him! I'm absolutely sure of it. …Alright, maybe I'm not. But if you asked him where he was today…he'd probably lie. Shit. He may be smart enough to be in English Lit, but that doesn't mean he likes reading anything. A guy that beautiful can like whatever he wants, I don't care. But I do wish I knew a guy that I could _talk _to, you know? Nicky's awesome, she's the greatest thing in the world. But she's female and doesn't completely…understand the male psyche, no matter how man-ish she acts/looks (and boy does she make a hot guy). Argh. _No, _Remus. No guy comfort. Remember Michael. Michael, Michael, Michael.

Hell. I don't want to think about him anymore. I'm going to play Kingdom Hearts until I pass out. I can feel my brain melting already…

(Mon.) August 28, 2006 – (11:24pm) Can I die _now? _Just swallow me up in the river of humiliation and carry me out to the sea of embarrassment.

Ms. Thompson counted us off into pairs to discuss the story we were meant to read over the weekend, The Fall of the House of Usher. I was surprised and more than a little disgusted by how many juniors hadn't read that story. Shit, I've read so much Edgar Allen Poe and looked him up so many times, I could write a five page report on him with my eyes closed. I mean that, I'm not just gloating. If I tried, I could do it. But I don't want to try.

Anyway, I bet I should have been able to guess way ahead of time, just because God hates me. Like that Simple Plan song 'God Must Hate Me'. Ready? Just to torture myself for future reference…. Sirius Black. I should have known. Is it just me or does my life have _way _too many coincidences to be healthily normal? I mean that, someone must be planning something because this is just too convenient. C'mon, bring on the lightning; smite me, O Mighty Smiter! (Gotta love Bruce Almighty.)

But, yes. We were talking and he just…kept zoning out. I asked him, "did you even read the story?"  
He nodded. "Yeah." (His voice is so sexy!) "I read it. Some guy goes to visit his friend with a crazy-ass sister and the house sinks into the ground, but the first guy survives it to tell us about it. Am I right or left?"  
The BFG. He's _had _to have read The BFG. "Right." I nodded. But instead of taking this obvious clue to 'stop talking about such a long stupid story you dumbass', I keep going. Near the end of the period we shift over to how completely and utterly awesome Spencer's is. Right before the bell rings we agree to meet there after school tomorrow just to browse and be idiots in a public place.

Not a date. That's okay. I don't know him that well, yet.

But it's close enough for fucking rock and roll!

(Tues.) August 29, 2006 - I don't think God hates me.

I **_know _**God hates me.

Sirius and I met up in front of Barnes and Noble (that's the only place you can come even within a foot of the door with a cigarette) and wandered Richmond mall for a while. We slowly made out way to Spencer's, but we just _had _to stop at Claire's, Remus, because they have such girly things to make fun of! I want to block that from my mind. Why don't I just say that Sirius + pink and purple boa + stolen blue lipgloss straight from the store ($4.96 down the drain…) something really scary.

If he's gay, he's the kind that scares me.

But that's not why God hates me.

We got to Spencer's and I was searching for the sex toys (I'm a curious cat, okay?) when I saw _him. _I've mentioned his name enough that I don't even need to say it, just know it was him. That sonuvabitch bastard that wasn't even fit to lick my ass. I ducked over to where the posters were; hoping the piles of junk on the shelves hid me. Nope, wrong again. He found me and grabbed my arm tightly. I guess that was his way of saying 'hi, how're you doing? I'm sorry for being an asshole and screwing up your life.'

"Hi," I mutter.  
"Remus." It's like he's rolling my name around his mouth, trying to see how it would fucking _taste. _"It's been a while."

I pray for something, anything, to come and save me. If I turn around and look at him, I'm done. "A long while. Sad, I'd hoped it would be longer." Deep down, like center of the earth deep down, I know he's not as cocky as he seems, the jerk. It's all an act. Just another mask in order to fool us all. Unless the vulnerability was a mask, too.

But lo and behold! My rescuer, the handsome and charming Sirius Black returns from where the shirts are located and intervenes. "Hey, kid. Will you let go of him like that? You're not intimidating anyone – this isn't the mob." Michael let me go and I could have melted. No more talking than necessary, yay! "You want out of here, Remus?"  
"Yeah. …Yeah." As we leave the store, I just wave my hand behind me and don't look back. "Bye, Michael."  
He doesn't answer. But Sirius gives me this funny look. "Who was that guy?"  
I shrug. "An old classmate."

He doesn't respond.

I _said _God hates me.

Know why?

Because I know I'll be seeing more that bastard again.


End file.
